


a constant forgetter, he's attractive but bitter

by amorias



Series: i was born to tell you i love you [2]
Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, delinquent au, super sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 15:42:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1863309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorias/pseuds/amorias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tajima got kicked out of his old school and Hanai is forced to help him get acclimated to the new school. Neither of them are happy about this. Delinquent AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a little one shot that I was writing for a collection of AU fics that kind of got out of hand and is super sappy and cheesy and awful. whoops.

Hanai looks up from his paper slowly, jaw clenched and foot tapping anxiously against the floor.

“What do you mean... take care of him?”

Him being the kid standing in front of his desk, brown eyes darkened with irritation, arms crossed over the chest of his dirty t-shirt, and bad attitude written all over his face where Hanai knows it shouldn't be. The guy looks young and small, with the way his shoulders are hunched up and chin is tucked down. He's trying to look tough, or maybe he actually is, and Hanai doesn't really want to be the one to find out which it is.

“You're the class rep,” starts the teacher, putting a hand flat against his desk, “and as such, you must fulfill your duties, like showing new students to the class around campus and showing them the ropes.” He leans down closer to Hanai. “He just got kicked out of his other school. I'm sure you can handle him.” With a pat on Hanai's shoulder, the teacher withdraws, leaving the two students together.

“Uhh...” The right fielder is at a loss for words, mostly trying to process what the hell just happened. He doesn't even know the new kid's name, or why he got kicked out of his last school – was it grades, or did he kill someone? – and class rep or not, he's not really sure it's his job to babysit some delinquent, especially when he has so much else on his plate, like being captain of the baseball team and dealing with the first years. “So... what's your name?”

The boy with freckles has sat down in the seat next to Hanai's, jacket bunched up on the top of the desk and his mostly empty book bag dropped carelessly on the floor. He glares over at Hanai and huffs out a breath before muttering “Tajima,” his voice so disgusted it's like he's talking to a serial killer.

The right fielder grimaces and rolls his eyes.

“Hanai. Nice to meet you,” he says flatly, trying to conceal his contempt for the kid who he's forced to be in contact with.

“Oy, captain!” A voice drifts into the classroom. “Let's get moving, we have a game, remember?” It's gone as quickly as it came, and Hanai swears under his breath as he shoves his papers into his book bag.

“I'll show you around tomorrow, Tajima.”

Tajima just picks at his nails and gives a sideways glance in Hanai's direction.

“Whatever.”


	2. ii.

“Can you please at least tell me about why Tajima is at our school now?” Hanai asks desperately, after too many failed attempts to convince his teacher that he is way too busy to be dealing with some delinquent, that he has too many other responsibilities to take care of, to pass off Tajima to the second in command of the class, Akemi Ito, because maybe he would be more cooperative if it was a pretty girl leading him around school – all of them were vetoed, but especially the last one (if the big, bad clean-up and captain of the baseball team couldn't straighten Tajima out, who could, was the reasoning, all of which Hanai disagreed with – he was anything  _but_ big and bad but the teacher was hearing no more arguments).

The teacher lets out a huffing breath.

“I don't know all the details, Hanai-kun.” Hanai wilts, looking up at the clock and then to the freckled boy, slouched in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, radiating his bad attitude across the entire back corner so much that everyone in the vicinity had moved to a different part of the room. “The only thing I know is that he had really bad grades, but that's not what got him expelled – he had those before he got kicked off the baseball team.”

“The... baseball team... ?”

“It seems to have gotten worse from there. I think he put someone in the hospital, but that could just be a rumor.”

The bell rings and lunch period is over: Hanai diligently returns to his seat and does his work until free period, trying to keep his mind off the fact that the little kid sitting next to him could've possibly put someone in the goddamn hospital. When the bell rings again, a feeling of dread settles into the back of his throat, but he swallows it down and turns to face Tajima.

“So, ready for me to show you around?”

The shorter boy eyes him only briefly and then shrugs. “Whatever.”

Hanai rolls his eyes. “Look, this will go a lot faster if you just go along with it, okay? Neither of us want to do this, so let's just get this over with.”

Tajima scowls, hunching up his shoulders and giving his guide a glare. “Fine! Whatever!”

The right fielder feels ready to strangle him already, but he pushes his anger into the way he roughly grabs his book bag. He faces the window and takes in deep breaths, trying to relax, remembering every technique he used to manage not to punch Mihashi every time he turned into a sniveling cry baby during their first year. Runner on third, runner on third. With a final breath he turns around to see Tajima looking at him with an unimpressed expression, book bag on his shoulder and foot tapping impatiently.

Hanai steels himself for the next half hour. “Let's go.”

The freckled boy doesn't even respond, but the captain takes it as a blessing. After stopping in at class 2 - 5 to tell Abe that he's going to be a little late, he hurries through the halls, pointing out anything that may be useful, only to be met with silence. They go through the gym, and then to the library, which Hanai assumes Tajima will never use, and around the clubrooms and soccer field until they end up near the baseball diamond. When they get there, the smaller boy wraps his fingers through the chain link of the fence and watches as the team warms up.

“Well, I guess that's about it. I'm sure you had as much fun as I did, but I need to go.”

He doesn't get a response, but he doesn't really wait around for one either before heading for the locker room to quickly change and get onto the field.

“Way to be late, captain!”

“Oh, shut it, Fumiki,” Hanai laughs, and as his eyes drift across the field, they catch on Tajima lingering by the fence. When he checks again after doing stretches, the freckled boy is gone, but he can't seem to get what his teacher said out of his mind.

 

 


	3. iii.

 “He's already failing all his classes? No offense, sensei, but are you joking? It's only been a week since he got here.”

“I would not joke about such a thing, Hanai-kun. Now, I'm telling you this because--”

Hanai puts up a hand. “Let me guess. You want me to tutor him on top of everything else.”

“Exactly.”

The captain puts a hand to his face. “Sensei, there's no way I can do this along with all the other stuff you're having me do! Showing him around and making sure he doesn't fall asleep in class is one thing because it's my job as class rep, but after-hours tutoring is _not_ my job.”

“So you're just going to stand by and let a student fail?”

Hanai is taken aback by this. “Wh... what? That's not my problem.” A weird feeling of guilt makes the words stick in his throat, but he ignores it. It's really not his problem, and his teacher shouldn't be guilting him into tutoring a delinquent when he has so much else to do. “Look, maybe if we were friends, or something, but... we're not. He's just some kid you forced on me.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I'm sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful, sensei, but this isn't fair.”

“He's the worst in the subjects you're best in. Please at least consider it.”

It was clear to Hanai that the issue was not going to be lifted from his responsibility – so he slouches and relents. “Fine. Only once a week, though. That's my condition.”

“Deal.”

Tajima seemed less than happy about this arrangement, although it was honestly hard for Hanai to tell because he just did the same thing he always did when presented with new information: a shrug, and a “whatever.” It frustrates him to no end how the kid could be so indifferent about every aspect of his life, as if it's all out of his own control, how he makes no effort at all – he forces himself to stop thinking about it just as he realizes he's ripping his paper from pushing his pencil into it so hard. He runs a hand across his head and sighs, sneaking a glance over at Tajima: a blank piece of paper sits on his desk and a phone displaying the current baseball scores sitting on his knee.

“I have to go to baseball practice before I tutor you, do you mind hanging around?” Hanai asks after the last bell has rung as he puts his books into his book bag. “I guess you could give me your address and I could come over after--”

“No, it's fine,” Tajima interrupts. Hanai is almost startled, he thinks that might be the longest sentence the kid has ever uttered in his direction, and there's something different about his voice – excitement, or something? The captain shifts uncomfortably in his seat before standing.

“Well, okay. If you're sure.”

They head over to the diamond and Hanai exchanges a few words with their coach, who Tajima is shocked to find is a total babe, and a boy with a fierce scowl and downturned eyes who the freckled boy recognizes from class 2 – 5. After what feels like much longer than it should've been, the captain comes back over. “You can sit in the dugout. We'll be done in a couple hours, why don't you get started on your homework or something?”

Tajima rolls his eyes. “Okay, _mom._ ”

This makes Hanai's blood boil so he turns away with a wave of his hand, until he thinks of something. “Oh. Tajima.” He leans down and lowers his voice to threatening levels. “If you try anything on Momokan or Chiyo, you'll have a pack twenty pissed off boys on your tail, so don't even think about it.” He straightens up and switches to his captain voice. “Got it?”

The shorter boy almost considers making a snarky comment congruent with his usual delinquent attitude, but he decides to play it safe in case Hanai isn't messing with him and just gives a nod.

The team goes through their usuals: warming up, meditation, batting and fielding, at some point the batteries break up to work with each other. Every time Hanai looks over to the dugout to make sure Tajima hasn't made a break for it, he sees him just leaning forward, carefully watching every movement made by the players on the field, as intent as he would be if he was watching a professional game. He looks like a completely different person, eyes clear and face pleasant, maybe cute even. He shakes his head the second that thought crosses his mind, but he finds himself checking up on him more than is probably necessary during the practice. By the time practice is over, he's sure that he must've gotten bored and fallen asleep or something, but when Hanai walks into the dugout to leave, Tajima is in the same exact position he's been in for the entire three hours they've been here.

“You... got nothing done,” he says, blinking down at the totally unopened book bag by Tajima's feet. He should've guessed – he saw him watching the team from the dugout every time he looked over. Even now, he's watching the rest of the team doing their normal tasks instead of even glancing over at the one talking to him. He sighs and sits next to him, leaning against the next bench in the dugout. “You've been watching us this whole time, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tajima breathes, as if he's in a totally different world, a smile apparent in his voice.

Hanai tilts his head in his direction, raising an eyebrow and smiling a little bit himself. “Are you smiling?”

The freckled boy stiffens, whatever semblance of a grin that had been there dropping immediately off his lips. “No!” He crosses his arms indignantly and pushes the toe of his shoe into the red dirt left behind by cleats on the cement of the dugout. “Why would I be?”

“You really like baseball, don't you, Tajima?”

He lets out an indifferent shrug. “So what if I do? S'not like it matters.” Hanai takes that to mean that he wasn't any good, and he taps fingers against his chin, considering his options. He doesn't know if the idea he has now is a brilliant one or the stupidest thing he's ever thought – if it's the first, he could really help him (not like he even knows why he would want to do such a thing), but if it's the second, he might end up dead, either at the hands of Tajima or Abe.

“It does, though. Listen, I've got a proposition for you.” Tajima gives the right fielder a kind of sidelong glance. “If you want, you could practice with us. For say, two weeks? It could like... a trial period, to see if you want to play on our team.”

The shorter boy kind of hunches up his shoulder and frowns, looking back at the field, eyes drifting between the first years cleaning up the field, the starters sitting in a circle around the catcher, the coach and the manager carrying buckets of baseballs back to the dugout. “D'you think... they would let me?” He asks slowly, scratching behind his ear.

“I mean... I don't know why not. Takaya may take some convincing, but other than that...”

Tajima is quiet for a long time, seemingly unconvinced. He stares at the ground, shifting his weight from side to side.

“Hey, I am the captain of the team. Those guys trust me, for whatever reason.” Hanai smiles to himself a little bit. “So if I say it's worth a shot, they'll go with it.” He looks at the circle of starters, where Mizutani is making a face at him until Abe punches him in the arm. “Probably.” He looks back down at the other boy. “So, what do you say?”

He hesitates, grabbing at his arm with his other hand. He takes in a breath that smells like dirt and grass and summer, and lets himself hope, maybe just a little bit.

“Okay.”


	4. iv.

 Tajima is anything but bad at baseball. He's amazing – his batting puts Hanai's to shame, and his fielding made the whole team's jaw drop. No wonder he hadn't come to this school even though it was right next to his house (a fact that Hanai found out when he went over to tutor him), the best teams out there must've scouted him right out of middle school.

“He was on the Arakawa Sea Breams in middle school,” Abe mutters to Hanai during break. “Clean up. Started at third base. No wonder he looks so familiar. My brother idolizes him.”

“Idolizing him... might not be a great idea.”

“No shit, Azusa. Neither is letting him on our team.”

Hanai sighs and gives Abe a look. “Look, Takaya, I know he's...” He rubs the back of his head. “There's a lot of rumors and I don't know, they might be true. But he's so damn good at baseball... he could get us to...” He trails off, afraid to even say it.

“Koshien?” The catcher says flatly, watching the freckled boy carefully, who has gotten along shockingly well with Mihashi in the two days he's been practicing with the team, not to mention the fact that the first years gravitate towards him – the original starters are more prone to keeping their distance, short of Mihashi. They're all on the other side of the dugout, alternating between exchanging glances and side-eyeing Tajima.

“Yeah.” The captain's mouth feels dry. It would be incredible, for sure, and he would be lying if he said he didn't want to get there before they graduated, but what school doesn't? He shakes away the thought. “Regardless of how good he is anyway, he really seems to love baseball. He's like a completely different person out there.”

“Just because someone loves baseball doesn't mean a damn thing.”

“Would you say something like that to Ren?”

Abe hesitates. “No. But if you ask me, inviting that kid to join us was a bad idea.”

“Well, I didn't ask you.” And with that, Hanai claps his hands together and switches easily into his captain voice. “Okay, let's get back to work everyone!”

Abe grabs the right fielder's arm. “We're not done talking about this, Azusa,” he hisses into his ear.

Hanai gives him a kind of glare that makes him step back, at least long enough for him to tell the team what to go out and do. He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest and watching as Tajima picks up a bat and stretches out his arms. He swears he's not even the same person he was when he got here – he's still quiet in class and very few people talk to him, but on the baseball diamond he seems... normal.

“Look. I'm not saying he's going to join the team, exactly. I know he has a reputation, and that he's a delinquent, but...” His gaze falls to the floor. “We're like, friends now, I think.” I think I care about his wellbeing, or something like that. Abe just scoffs because he doesn't have an empathetic bone in his damn body, and shakes his head.

“Fine, captain. Your choice.” He starts walking to the diamond. “Just know I'll be there to tell you 'I told you so' when it blows up in your face.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever, Takaya. Get back to practice, Ren is probably lost without you.”

“Oh ha, ha,” Abe says sarcastically. “He seems to be getting on with your good friend Tajima just fine.” Hanai looks up, and sees them talking, and Tajima is even smiling – he can feel something snap in his chest.

It's around five when they end practice.

“Um... Hanai?” He turns, and sees Tajima, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. “Would you mind... helping me study for the English test tomorrow?” He looks to the floor. “'M not real good with studying and stuff.”

“Oh...” Hanai is more surprised than anything. Tajima had been talking a lot more lately, though it's not hard to talk more when the only thing you ever said in the first place was “whatever.” Regardless, he gives a nod. “Sure. I have to study for it too, anyway.” He goes about doing a few more captain responsibilities he has to take care of, but they're soon sitting in Tajima's room, his half-done study sheet sitting on the table, his tongue just poking out of his lips in concentration.

“Hey, Tajima... can I ask what happened? At your old school?” Hanai bites his lip, hesitating. “You're too good at baseball to have been kicked off because you weren't good enough, or even because of your grades... and...” He lets out a breath, scratching the side of his face. “I guess some of the guys still don't really like you that much, because there's a lot of rumors going around.” Tajima's totally frozen, and the captain is regretting his decision to ask, but he can't stop now. “I just think that they'll understand you better if the record is set straight.”

There's a long pause in their speech, and the room is so quiet Hanai can hear something sizzling in a pan in the kitchen downstairs, and the muffled speech of one of Tajima's sisters talking on the phone in the next room over. He shifts his weight to his side and rests a hand on the table, opening his mouth to apologize, to say that Tajima doesn't need to tell if him if doesn't want to--

“My great grandpop had just died,” He says softly, staring intently at the paper in front of him. “When I got kicked off the baseball team, I mean.”

Hanai gives the other boy a worried kind of look but doesn't say anything – he draws his hand from the table and puts it into his lap.

“I acted out, or whatever.” He looks down at the lines in his hands. “Every little thing people said pissed me off, y'know? I couldn't believe it, that he was dead. I mean, he was seriously old, but...” He curls his fingers into his palm and shakes his head. “It doesn't matter, I guess. When I got over that, I was just pissed all the time. People started ignoring me, even my friends.” He grimaces, eyebrows creasing together. “I got mad at the coach, I snapped at our captain... I guess it was when I smashed a bat to pieces after striking out on an easy pitch that was the last straw.”

Hanai leans back on his hands, keeping a straight face. Tajima is not a big guy, but what little weight he has must be pure muscle to smash a wooden bat to splinters.

“Once word got around, people started picking on me, for that and 'cause I'm... well... for some other stuff, I guess.” He runs his hand through his hair. “It sucked. It really sucked! They pushed me around and acted like I was trash, or something.” He huffs out an angry breath. “Just because I wasn't the baseball wonder boy anymore, or whatever crap they had been calling me for the past year. So I was mad all the time, and then one time when someone hit me, I hit 'em back.”

The right fielder can feel his heart jump into his throat – oh god, the rumors had been true. Tajima had sent someone to the hospital, they were in a coma, they died, it's all going to come out right here and Hanai will have no defense when the second years on the team get on his case for letting some delinquent practice with them.

Tajima must see the color drain from Hanai's face because he gives him a dismissive wave of his hand. “Nothing happened! I broke his nose and I _might've_ knocked a tooth out. He didn't die or any of that stuff people are saying about me. You think I could kill someone?” He laughs, and Hanai instantly straightens up – it's the first time he's heard his laugh, and it's like pure sunshine; he gulps, trying to relieve the sudden tightness in his chest. “He was fine... besides, he hit me first! Everyone forgets that part. He got suspended for like a week or something, but I got expelled for breaking his nose. Or maybe it was from the blood stain on the cement? I can't remember.” He shrugs. “It was a stuffy, expensive private school. They had a lot of weird rules, I only went there because they had a really nice baseball diamond.”

He laughs again, and Hanai's mouth goes dry as he notices how Tajima's nose crinkles up when he smiles.


	5. v.

 “You're good for tutoring today after practice, right?” Hanai asks, looking over at him as he starts putting his books into his bag.

“Yep!” Tajima says. “Especially with that math test tomorrow, I'm really gonna need your help.”

“That's fine.” The captain smiles slightly and hoists his bag onto his shoulder, making for the door, Tajima following behind him. They walk out into the hall, and Hanai finds it hard to believe that Tajima has only been here for two weeks – it's like he's a completely different person, now. But his trial period with the team is almost up, and he worries about what the outcome will be.

Hanai feels a sudden slap on his back, and an all-too-familiar “Hey, Azusa,” makes the color drain from his face. His instinct is to grab Tajima, who is trying to stifle laughter at the use of his girly first name, and run, but he settles for letting the word “no” repeat in his mind over and over again as he turns around to face Daisuke Minami.

Daisuke Minami is one of those friends you don't really want to have, but you're forced into having because of some commonality – in this case, middle school. Hanai had attended the same middle school as this kid, and ever since finding out that they were going to the same high school, he wouldn't leave Hanai alone. He had lucked out by not being in the same class yet, but somehow, Minami always managed to find Hanai in the hallways and take up at least fifteen minutes of his time, usually about nothing that is even remotely important or interesting.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, buddy?” He asks, not even waiting for an answer before leading him to the other side of the hallway.

“Actually, I've kind of got to get to practice--”

“Look, Azusa,” Minami says under his breath, wrapping an arm around Hanai's shoulder. The right fielder rolls his eyes at both the contact and that fact that he's seriously using his first name. “Why're you hanging around that Tajima kid? Don'tcha know he's like...” He looks over his shoulder at Tajima before continuing, “a delinquent?”

The captain closes his eyes, trying to maintain his composure. He picks up the other boy's hand and moves it off his shoulder and straightens up, crossing his arms over his chest and doing his best to seem intimidating.

“We're friends, that's why,” he says flatly.

“Well, I mean, y'know, _I_ don't care or whatever, but haven't you heard the things people are saying about him?”

“You can't believe everything you hear.”

“Of course, of course, Azusa, but... it's probably not good for your image to be hanging around with someone like that, you know? I'm just worried about you! Honest, man.”

This is where Hanai snaps. He huffs out a breath and stares Minami dead in the eye, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Alright, look, I don't need you to be watching out for me, or telling me who to be friends with for the sake of 'my image' or whatever the hell you've been babbling about.” He takes a step backwards and looks down at the other boy, who is a good four inches shorter than him. “If you really want to help 'my image,' you'd shut your mouth and stop spreading rumors about someone you don't even know, got it?” And with that, he turns to walk back to where Tajima is standing, hands shaking from how tightly they're grasping the strap of his book bag.

“You're going to get yourself killed, Azusa!” Minami calls after him, still standing where he left him.

Hanai's mind is too frazzled to come up with a good response, so he just grabs Tajima by the arm and starts walking down the hall, mumbling a “let's go.”

“What was that all about?” The freckled boy asks, tilting his head.

“Nothing.” The captain just stares straight ahead, walking as fast as he can without seeming frantic, scowling. “It was nothing. Let's just get to practice, okay?”

“Whatever you say.”

When they actually arrive at practice, Hanai is still out of sorts from the altercation he just had – he knows what everyone is saying, but he doesn't need people picking on him now because of it. He rests his forehead against the metal of his locker, taking in a deep breath to try and clear his mind. He can't go out and play baseball like this.

“I had to tell three different guys to screw off today 'cause they were talking crap about Tajima,” he hears drifting over the row of lockers. He bolts upright – that was definitely Izumi's voice.

“Me too,” Suyama says next. “He's the only thing anyone talks about anymore...”

“But if what Azusa told us is true, then everything they're saying is a lie!” Sakaeguchi's voice, now. “Why would they say that stuff?”

“'Cause they don't know him, obviously.” Izumi again. They all pause for a moment, and Hanai holds his breath.

“But if Azusa hadn't let him practice with us, we'd probably be saying the same things.” Abe, and it's quiet again, because everyone knows he's right.

Hanai backs up, away from the lockers as quietly as he can. He only lets himself breathe once he gets out of the locker room, putting a hand up against the wall to steady himself. The guys are actually standing up for Tajima too – somehow, he can't believe it, but a warm feeling seeps into his ribcage that he can't quite explain.

 

“Okay. Okay.” Tajima repeats, holding his temples in his hands and staring hard down at his paper. “Okay...” Hanai stares at him, leaning forward, practically holding his breath. “I... don't get it.”

Hanai can't help but groan and lay his head down against the table. He takes in a deep breath and quickly straightens up, resolved to help Tajima understand at least some of the material.

“Okay, one more time,” he says, taking the pencil from the freckled boy's hand and starting the math problem from hell. It was already 10PM – practice had ended over three hours ago and they had come straight to Tajima's house, working on their study guides ever since. He finishes the problem and sets the pencil down. “Get it?”

“Um... maybe? Man, this is hopeless!” Tajima buries his head in his arms and sighs heavily. He feels undeniably screwed for this test tomorrow and very much on the verge of a very long all nighter. Hanai adjusts his glasses, resting his head in his hand, and both boys are quiet for a long time, listening to the hum of the fan in Tajima's room.

“Hey, Hanai...” the freckled boy starts, looking up a little bit so their eyes meet. “What was that today, in the hall? Who was that guy?”

Hanai stiffens, shifting his gaze away. “I told you, it was nothing.”

Tajima straightens up, putting his palms flat against the table. “You wouldn't be acting like this if it was nothing!”

The captain swallows, refusing to look at the other boy, because he knows he'll just see determination and pleading in his earnest eyes and he can't take that right now. But even without looking, he breaks.

“He's just... some guy from my middle school who thinks we're friends,” he starts, eyebrows creasing together. “He was worried about my 'image' or whatever, something stupid like that, because I'm friends with you. Talking about all these stupid rumors... seriously, he's an idiot.”

“You... stood up for me?” Tajima asks, voice low.

“Well, yeah, why wouldn't I? Anyone who actually knows you would do the same, Tajima.”

He laughs a little here, a bitter, one-note kind of laugh that makes Hanai cringe from how jarring it sounds coming out of Tajima's mouth. He leans back on his hands.

“I doubt it,” he mutters, looking off to the side. “You're the only person who would do that for me.”

“No, Tajima-- all the guys on the baseball team are doing the same for you.”

“Wh... what? No way...”

“I heard them talking about it today in the locker room.” Hanai tells him, leaning his elbows onto the table. “I mean, they don't know that I heard them, but I did. They were talking about how they were standing up for you, telling people who were talking about you to shut up.”

Tajima slouches, looking at a nondescript point on the table. “Wow,” he mumbles, his voice tainted with disbelief.

“Yeah, I couldn't believe it either,” the right fielder comments. “But... I was really glad they felt that way.” They both sit in silence again for awhile, staring at different points on the walls, and Hanai almost thinks of saying something stupid – he manages to refrain, and only says “ready to get back to work?”

He doesn't get out of Tajima's house until one in the morning, but he thinks it was worth it.


	6. vi.

 When Hanai arrives at school the next day, he can hear screaming and yelling. His heart drops to his stomach and his stomach goes to his throat, because he knows at the back of his mind who's at the center of whatever is going on.

“Say it again! Say it, so I can punch your nose into your face!”

It's Tajima, just like Hanai suspected, and he's screaming, his eyes wild and wide and dark, just like they were on the first day.

“Tajima... ! Tajima, stop!” The right fielder drops his bag to the ground and grabs Tajima's shoulders, pulling him off the of the other boy, his arms wrapped around his armpits and lifting him off the ground completely.

“I'll kill you, for what you said!”

Tajima's voice is wavering, and Hanai can feel his whole body shaking against his own.

“Tajima... stop,” he mumbles into the freckled boy's ear, and he watches as other kids surround the boy who's bleeding from the nose, from the cut on his forehead, from the split in his lip. The ones who don't can only stare at Tajima like he's some kind of animal being restrained.

Like he's filth, and even though the glares aren't directed at him, Hanai backs up, dropping the other boy gently to the floor, but not releasing his grasp on his shoulders – he starts pulling him along, leaving his book bag where it lays and telling him to come with him.

Tajima stares at the floor, hands shoved into his pockets, and shuffles along quietly until Hanai has him in a deserted corner of the hallway, away from all the people and their judgmental glares.

“Aren't ya gonna take me to the principal, or somethin'?” He mumbles, kicking a nearby rock half-heartedly, eyes steadfastly focused on the way it bounces away from his foot.

Hanai is silent for a few moments before he brings a hand up to the side of Tajima's head, letting his dark hair fill in the gaps between his fingers. He lets out a smooth sigh when the freckled boy doesn't flinch away from his touch and wills his heartbeat to slow down.

“No. Well, not yet.” His voice is soft, and he leans down just a little to try to look the other boy in the eye. “Tajima, look at me.”

Brown eyes look only for a moment before darting away.

“Tajima, what did they say to you?”

The shorter boy's body begins to tremble, and he twists away from Hanai's fingers, backing up against the wall. “They said...” He tries to keep his voice from shaking or cracking, and he refuses to blink away from the floor because he knows that if he does the tears that threaten to spill over actually will. He swallows, hard, and brings up his forearm to cover up his eyes. “That I'm a loser, and I just want attention.” Tajima's knees begin to buckle from under him, and he slides to the floor, forehead resting on his knees and tears dripping into his lap. “They knew that I was kicked off the baseball team, and that I beat some kid up and this other stuff, and they asked if my parents even cared about me. They--” His voice cracks, and he swallows. “They said that I'm better off dead. That no one wants me.”

Hanai's skin starts to heat up and it's all he can do to crouch down next to the other boy instead of going and beating the crap out of those boys himself. This is who Tajima really is – just a scared, neglected kid who fell off the right track. But all he wants is for someone to give a crap, to not beat up on him or judge him. He gets on his knees and puts his hands on either side of Tajima's face, making him look up.

“Forget what they said, Tajima.” He uses his thumbs to wipe away warm tears from the freckled boy's cheeks. “They're just a couple of jerks who think they're better than you. They're not, though.”

Tajima tenses under Hanai's grasp, pulling his head back and turning his gaze away. He wipes at his face with the back of his hand. “But they're right, Hanai,” he says, his voice soft and raspy. “No one wants me. I'm a fuck up.”

“No.” The captain says it with such intensity that it startles Tajima into looking at him, which he takes as an opportunity to grab his wrists. “No, you're not. You're not a fuck up, or any of that stuff they said.” A million thoughts are running through his head, and his mouth is going a mile a minute to try and catch up and say all the things he wants to say. “You're better now. Maybe you screwed up at your last school, whatever! It doesn't matter anymore, because you're here now. I...” he hesitates here, swallowing back the lump that formed in his throat while he was talking. “There are people who care about you here. I care about you, Tajima. The baseball team... those first years! They think you are the coolest kid, you know? And--”

“You...” The shorter boy interrupts, eyebrows creased together. “You care about me?”

“Of course I do,” he says softly, a million more things he could say running through his head, but he keeps his mouth shut. He looks down a bit, mouth pressed into a tight line. “Tajima, we have to go to the principal to tell him what happened. But know that I'll be right there with you, okay? I'm going to back you up on this, because...” He trails off, eyes shifting around Tajima's features. “Because you're important to me.”

Tajima's body begins to tremble again, and he ducks under Hanai's chin to bury his wet face into his shirt, hands grasping at the fabric to keep from shaking. The right fielder wraps his arms around the other boy's small frame, and he can't quite stop himself from pressing his lips to the side of Tajima's jawline, which he's instantly convinced is a bad idea because the freckled boy pulls back and stares directly into Hanai's eyes long enough to make him have to look away, only to be startled back when their lips are crashed together.

“W-wait, wait--” Hanai stammers, pulling away. He logically knows this is a very, very bad idea, but also he doesn't exactly want to stop, but no, they have other things to worry about right now. His face is flushed completely red. “Okay. Wait. We n-need to, um,” he really wishes Tajima would stop looking at him like that, “we need to go.” He clears his throat and stands up, extending a hand. “We need to go to the principal's office and figure this out first, okay?”

Tajima also stands up, looking at the floor, suddenly looking so much smaller than a minute ago. He fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “Do we have to?”

“Yes. I'm sure that other guy is already there, so we need to go now.”

“Fine.” He drags out the word and they start walking. When they get there, Tajima hesitates outside the door.

“Do you think I'm gonna get expelled again?” He asks quietly. Hanai swallows, not knowing what to say.

“I hope not,” is the best he can muster, and when the door is opened, Tajima is dragged in and the door is shut in Hanai's face without so much as a word. “W-wait... !” He feels a hand on his shoulder, and when he looks, it's the principal's secretary, and she has a look on her face that makes Hanai's heart drop.

When he gives up and goes back to class, he can't stop looking at the empty seat next to him.

 

Tajima spent all day in the principal's office, and by the time he got out, Hanai was already at baseball practice. He looks like a wreck – his shirt is dirty and his cheeks are red and his knuckles possibly have dried blood on them – and he crosses his arms over his chest, embarrassed, but resolved to walk to the baseball diamond to deliver the news to the boys himself, rather than letting more rumors get to them.

Hanai had been watching his back the entire practice, worried that Tajima was going to show up and he wouldn't even know it, but after his fifth time looking towards the dugout with no results, he attempts to focus more on actually practicing baseball.

“T... Tajima-kun!” Mihashi blurts out, pointing over towards the fence and then immediately slouching down and getting jittery as soon as Abe stands to look too – poor kid is probably afraid Abe will yell at him again, but that's not really something Hanai can worry about right now. The second years go around in a crowd to Tajima, which catches Momokan's attention – she quickly herds the first years to the outfield.

“What happened?” Hanai asks, trying and failing to keep the worry in his voice in check.

“Well, I got suspended...” Tajima gives a half-hearted smile, scratching his neck.

“For how long?”

“Two weeks.” He shrugs. “At least I'm not expelled?” He tries to laugh a little, but it sticks in his throat. His eyes drift between all the faces. His shoulders slump, and he sticks his hands into his pockets. “I guess you guys probably don't want someone like me on your team anyway... my trial period was almost up, too.”

“Are you kidding?” Izumi blurts out. “That guy you beat up was the biggest jerk in school. He picked on all of us when we lost last year. None of us ever had the guts to stand up to him, though.”

“Yeah, plus...” Mizutani cuts in, a dangerous grin on his face. “If we kicked off the captain's boyfriend, we would all be screwed.”

Tajima raises his eyebrows, and Hanai freezes in place, feeling all eyes on him. No, this is not happening, unless this is just a joking offhanded comment that suddenly revealed the truth-- Tajima slowly turns to him. “Did you...”

“No?!”

“Oh please Azusa, it was _so_ obvious,” Mizutani continues. “You wouldn't shut up about him!”

His face heats up, turning such a bright red he could light an entire street with it. He buries his face in his hands. “Just... keep it from the first years, alright?”

“As long as you guys don't get all gross, deal,” Izumi says, and the rest of the second years nod along with him, commenting with things that don't matter and don't get heard as they all talk over each other.

“Hey, Hanai!” Tajima says, bounding over to him. “Since I'm gonna be on the team now, y'know, after my suspension, can I call you Azusa? Or d'you prefer captain?”

Hanai can feel the color draining from his face. “Um, Hanai is fine--”

“Azusa it is then!” The freckled boy laughs, playing with the buttons on the taller boy's shirt for a moment, a small smile lingering on his lips. He breathes out, flickering his eyes up to Hanai's momentarily before grabbing hold of his collar and pulling him down for a kiss that makes their teeth clack together. It only lasts for what a few seconds before Tajima is pulled by the collar of his t-shirt back by Izumi.

“What did we _just_ say, Tajima?” He's looking indignant as usual, but Tajima just laughs.

“Let's go play catch, Azusa!”

He jumps a step back, and grabs at the captain's wrist, pulling him out towards the grass – the sunlight catches Tajima's cheeks just right, and Hanai can't help but smile when he laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they totally porked after this in case the homoerotic subtext wasn't enough for you guys ,';^)


End file.
